


Being Able To Count

by subito



Category: Political RPF - UK 20th-21st c.
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-10 21:05:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5600890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subito/pseuds/subito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny visits George in his office to give him a Christmas present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Being Able To Count

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xanderbae](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=xanderbae).



> written for xanderbae on LJ for the Lolitics Secret Santa Exchange 2015.

When people ask Danny about the election, they get the same, well-rehearsed answers every time. They are joyful accounts, not tinged by sadness or regret, that usually succeed in making everyone smile at him and prevent any further questions. He tells them about his life now, how he has more time to go hill-walking with nothing but a fishing rod and binoculars, how he has more time to learn pottery from his dad, and more time to dedicate to local issues, of course.

But now and then the questions continue and dip into territory he only conquers when he absolutely must, when those thoughts won’t leave him alone. They range from baffled over neutral to insistent and Danny isn’t sure which end of the spectrum he hates more. _Don’t you miss anything? What do you miss the most? You must miss something!_ In essence, it’s the same question over and over again and it hits him in that hidden place all the same. All he can do in public is to say how proud he is of what he has managed to achieve during his time in the Treasury.

In those rare and private moments when Danny is being honest with himself, he knows exactly what he is missing. And whom. It’s not like he hasn’t kept in contact with George, they text each other every other day, but it just isn’t the same as sharing that broader space of offices. As with almost everything, it’s the little things he misses the most.

He misses the times when someone just stops by his office because they need a breather, when someone comes to him to share a joke or some juicy piece of gossip that will make the headlines in a day or two. Sometimes, that person was George and over the course of their working relationship they had started to bond over often surprisingly similar views.

He and George have always been the ones in the quad who were closer to each other than to their respective party colleagues. Even closer than Dave and Nick were to each other a lot of the time; or that’s how Danny had felt anyway. And when he had looked at George during those meetings and they’d shared a look, he was sure George had thought the same. Because time and again and the longer the coalition lasted, Dave and Nick were disagreeing profoundly despite what their public image suggested. George and Danny, on the other hand, had found a lot more common ground that translated into not only a more efficient work flow but also a sort of genuine friendship.

Danny doesn’t usually let himself get dragged into the mangled world of these thoughts but it’s close to Christmas, that time of year that makes you wistful and wishing for someone to share a cold evening and a warm drink with; and maybe something more.

To relax and stop mulling over those stirring feelings, Danny starts a dough for one of his favourite brioche recipes. It’s one of his mum’s and in all those years, kneading the dough has always helped getting rid of almost any kind of tension. One thing the magic of baking cannot do, apparently, is calm his thoughts. Danny puts the brioche into the oven some time later and while he watches it expand, he makes a decision.

George had often enough ended one of their exchanges with an invitation for Danny to stop by whenever he likes. They know each other well enough for Danny to be sure those aren’t just empty pleasantries but he has so far never found the time or unnecessary excuse to act on it. Christmas is a good enough excuse, Danny has decided now and prepares two gift bundles to take with him on the all too familiar way.

No one is giving him a second look when he enters the buildings, their secrets all learnt by heart a long time ago. Danny walks the narrow corridors with secure steps, navigating the labyrinth of corners and stairs and almost secret rooms. Most of the staff have already left and only a few lights are still switched on, spilling out from under closed doors along with the faint sounds of music.

Checking his watch again, Danny is confident that George is still in his office. When he turns around the final corner, he sees the little padlock dangling unlocked on the door of the fridge between their former offices and Danny can’t suppress a smile. He knows how hard George works, not only when it comes to paperwork and policies but also in regard to his weight. He had always admired the way George stuck to it but even more relished the thought that he could be tempted to slip up on the odd day or two. Danny looks down at his two carefully secured bundles of baked goods and knocks on the open door.

George’s facial expressions are worth a dissertation and Danny had tried his best over the years to map and learn as many of the subtle and not so subtle movements of those tiny muscles as he could. What always caught him by surprise, however, what truly made him stop a split second so he could find his breath again, was the way George’s face lit up when he genuinely and wholeheartedly enjoyed something.

That was precisely the sight that greeted him now: black hair cropped stylishly short, the whiteness of his skin exaggerated by the artificial light and red lips parted in a small, round expression at first, then widened until his face was nothing but that wonderful smile. The most stunning features were the eyes, though, big and bright in that mixture of green-brown warmth that seemed to spread into every fiber of its surroundings - people, rooms, time - at least to Danny it had seemed that way for it never failed to brighten his day.

“Danny!” George’s voice is high and speaks of a successful surprise.

George stands from behind his desk, eyes fixed on Danny, hands smoothing his tie.

“Come in,” he says as he gestures for Danny to do just that. “What brings you here?”

“I came by to give you your Christmas present. It’s a bit time-sensitive, it-” Danny holds out the two bundles “Well, see for yourself.”

George takes another step towards Danny and takes the bigger bundle out of Danny’s hands first. His big smile hasn’t lessened. Bringing the bundle up to his nose, George’s eyebrows rise and he looks directly into Danny’s eyes.

“Is that what I think it is?” George asks more in a rhetorical fashion as he gently unbinds it. An edge of the brioche Danny had made earlier appears, the colour a lush golden brown and smelling like heaven.

“It is!” George looks at the brioche like it is the most precious gift he has ever received and Danny can’t help but be pleased with himself. One of George’s hands runs over the crust and Danny has to look away. “And it’s still warm!”

“These, too,” Danny says as he holds out the smaller bundle that contains some homemade biscuits.

“Thank you, Danny!” George’s voice is still high and on the verge of giggly. Danny had known George would like his bakes but he clearly still underestimated the other man’s capacity for enthusiasm. A thought he forces himself not to dwell on.

“I’ll have to try to not eat them all in one go,” George says with his smile now tuned down to a grin as he binds the bundles together again and then playfully rubs his belly.

“ _You_ have nothing to worry about,” Danny replies in an equal tone of voice and points at his own belly. George laughs and shakes his head.

“No, really,” Danny continues “you look great.”

He intended for it to come across in a light-hearted manner but clearly George had heard something else in it as well. A slight blush is colouring Danny’s cheeks as George takes a moment to study him with a curious expression.

“So do you,” George replies with a smile and turns around to face his desk.

A drawer slides open without a noise and George has to bend down to get out whatever he put in there.

“Actually,” George presents a thick, oblong packet to Danny “I have something for you, too.”

This Danny hadn’t expected. He had just wanted to drop off his presents while they were still fresh and, well, see George. He never would have thought that George had also got him a present.

“Thanks!” He takes it out of George’s hands to inspect it while George looks at him with expectant but encouraging eyes.

Danny turns the packet around in his hands and can see that George must have wrapped it himself. That in itself is enough to make Danny look up and beam at George before he gets back to the packet and looks at the crumpled edges. The wrapping paper is a sort of steely blue with a minimalist pattern of silver snowflakes that manages to somehow look both classy and not cold. Danny imagines George picking it out and then struggling with it, trying to wrap whatever is inside all neat and tidy. The thought of George fighting with the sticky tape, as he must have done, judging by the bits and pieces Danny can spot in various places, makes him huff out a laugh.

“You can open it, if you want to,” George looks at him in a bemused way. “You don’t have to be afraid to destroy my design.”

Danny grins at him and rips the wrapping paper apart in one fluid motion. George stares at him, which Danny doesn’t notice because he himself stares at the book in his hands, sees the cover, reads the title, again – and is truly lost for words. It’s the fifth volume of Robert Caro’s “The Years of Lyndon Johnson”.

George just watches him curiously when Danny looks up and says “How- Wh- Where did you get that? They haven’t even set a publishing date yet! “

When Danny is surprised, his voice doesn’t go high like George’s does. His goes deeper, quieter and is much more on the side of pure disbelief. He looks from George to the book and back. He really can’t think of a way this book exists yet. And he should know, he has three or four alerts on different sites and newsletters set up especially for this one purpose.

George smiles and takes a step towards Danny. “I had the honour of having dinner with Robert Caro once and he granted me a favour. I got an advance copy and-,” George opens the book to show Danny the black scribbling on the first page.

Danny still doesn’t know what to say so he just goes with his gut feeling and wraps his arms around George in a big hug. There is no time to think about whether it is a mistake because, thankfully, George immediately hugs him back. Danny’s coat is an unfortunate barrier but he still revels in the feeling of having George this close to himself. When Danny lets go, his free hand rests on George’s shoulder, his thump close enough to George’s neck to stroke at sensitive spots if Danny were a braver man right now. One of George’s hands still lingers on the open front of Danny’s coat and absentmindedly strokes the fabric, almost tentatively, as if it wanted to slip inside and brush against something else.

“I take it you like it then, “George says with a little laugh and lifts his chin to look into Danny’s eyes.

“George-,” Danny starts but can’t find words to form a comprehensible sentence. Instead, he puts them all into one action: Danny’s hand on George’s shoulder slides higher and pulls George forward into a kiss. And again, George responds immediately and kisses him back.

George takes a tiny step back to catch his breath. One of his hands comes up to rub the back of his neck.

“Well,” he clears his throat. “Since it requires bold moves to bring about change- ,” he fetches something else from inside the drawer in his desk and hands it to Danny without another word.

Danny takes the envelope and carefully peeks inside. He has no idea what to expect anymore. All former terms of reference have already lost their validness at this point.

There are pieces of paper inside the envelope but Danny just cannot connect the dots. He just kissed George. And George kissed him back. Perfect and wonderful and-

“They go with the book,” George interrupts Danny’s thoughts.

“I know you did this road trip with Mark Littlewood in 1996 where you travelled around Texas, visiting important places LBJ had been, using the books as a guide… and I thought, seeing that it’s been twenty years, you might be interested in doing something similar again?” George looked at Danny and adds “With me?”

Danny just stares at him because, clearly, this must be some sort of dream.

George considers Danny’s lack of response “I mean, if you don’t want to…,” and looks down at his shoes.

Danny shakes his head, takes a deep breath and finally finds some words. “Of course I want to!” He runs one hand through his comparatively longish hair. “I just kissed you!”

George grins. “Being able to count is the most important rule in politics but I guess we are both unable to put two and two together when it comes to..,” he stops and waves his hands back and forth in what little space is still left between them.

Danny lets out a laugh, deep and full of relief, and pulls George into another hug. He wraps his coat around them this time and allows himself to let his hands wander a bit, gently brushing his fingertips over George’s back and neck as George makes a sound that speaks of being perfectly content.


End file.
